Silence
by CryKat
Summary: Jecht reaches the Farplane and waits. JA (lil bit o' yaoi)


Title: Silence  
  
Author: CryKat  
  
Email: CryKatt@aol.com  
  
Disclaimer: Well I know I don't own them, you know I don't own them. (but they don't know I don't own them, so shhhh.)  
  
Warning: well... nothing too bad. I'll work on the lemonade later. Anyway bad author warning... I write these quick, and don't have a beta... so yeah, spelling and grammar errors of doom! Fear them.  
  
Rating: PG Summary: Jecht reaches the farplane...and waits.  
  
Pairing: Jecht/Auron. (as if I'd write anything else!)  
  
The silence is comfortable.  
  
Jecht can imagine the rest of his existence like this; sitting on the peaceful shores of some nameless lake, with the sky in eternal sunset, rich hues reflecting off the still waters in reds and deeper violets, hinting at a darker blue. Thin wisps of clouds scatter across the darkening horizon; absorb the evening's colors, making them seem more brilliant still.  
  
The air smells of rain, the grass beneath him damp from the afternoon's showers, soaking into the heavy fabric of his shorts but he doesn't mind so much; summer heat lingering to chase away the chill of nightfall. Brightly colored flowers blanketed the landscape around him, weaving their way up steep cliff faces and over the endless stretch of hills. There are waterfalls, he can hear the soft roar somewhere behind him, almost too soft to really notice, and he'd missed it until a moment ago. He is lulled by the peace this place offers, no mind the promise of loneliness it brings, it's a much different sort of 'alone' than he is so used to.  
  
He's not sure where he is, and thinks for a moment that perhaps he might be dreaming. Though he can't quite remember dreaming for over ten years... or maybe everything before this had been the dream? Right now he can't bring himself to care. If this was a dream, then he has no wish to wake from it.  
  
He can pretend he's content enough to simply watch the pyerflies as they flutter across the color soaked waters, reflecting their glowing brightness on crystals surfaces, twisting around eachother like children in a game of tag. The beauty of this place makes his heart ache.  
  
And he thinks for a moment that he wants to laugh...  
  
Or cry.  
  
Laughter wins out, but it is pained. Starting with a low chuckle that welds up in the back of his throat, and then louder; pressing his palms over his eyes while he falls back into the soft wet grass. Laughing until his belly aches. Laughing until it becomes something rawer, strained and awful. Laughing until it brings tears to his eyes and he finds he cannot stop their steady flow, though he tries to wipe them away with callous rough fingers.  
  
He thinks himself pitiful here, suddenly sobbing like a child for reasons he can't quite grasp. Trying to scrape together enough memories to understand where he is, and how he came to be here. Knows somewhere in the back of his mind that this place is infinitely better than where he was before. Remembers the heat of fire, cries of anguish and the stench of decay. Remembers pain and helplessness.  
  
And the laughter of a young child, the crystal blue waters of the ocean, and the soft cry of seagulls. Memories of the roaring crowd as they cheer for him, and the rough texture of a blitzball in his hands. Of amber eyes and the flash of steel. Of grateful smiles and a gentle voice; singing a song he knows so well, but could never remember learning.  
  
"What do I do?" Silence once more, but he doesn't expect any less. Yet some how the silence only frustrates him; leaves him too much time to think... to feel.  
  
Just lies there for what feels like hours, though the sky above him grows no dimmer and finally he closes his eyes to shut out the sight of swimming lights. Tries to relax his exhausted mind, reaches that state of 'almost' sleep before a soft sound rouses him.  
  
"Don't let me wake up..." Hurts to speak, his throat still raw from before and it effects his voice, makes it rougher, deeper.  
  
"Then don't open your eyes." A different voice, though for a moment he expects it to be his own; only it's softer in tone but just as deep, and achingly familiar.  
  
"Okay..." A sharp breath and he shudders despite himself, turns to bury his face against his arm. Feels everything, from the warmth of his own skin to the cool wetness of the ground beneath him-- knows somewhere in the back of his mind that it's real.  
  
The heat of another body beside him, grass rustling with the movement and he can hear the faint sound of breathing, the whisper of cloth as a form settles at his side.  
  
After a moment he reaches blindly for the other, out stretched fingers meet only empty air, then a low chuckle as fingertips brush his own, rough and warm until they're twining with his, palms pressed flat against one another.  
  
Jecht smiles.  
  
"If I do wake up..?" He grips that hand, dragging it back towards him, feels fingers tighten against his own though there is no resistance to his pull. Smooth cloth suddenly pressed against his side as a shadow falls over him.  
  
"I'll be here."  
  
Jecht opens an eye, then the other. Can't quite make out the form above him just yet, vision still blurred, but he knows the color red. Feels his heart thrum in his chest like a caged bird, blinks a few times before he rolls to his back.  
  
Auron is smirking down at him, pulled to lean at an awkward angle by a hand that is still trapped by Jecht's own. Sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, failing to hide that half ruined gaze. One visible eye a deep amber that is so familiar to Jecht.  
  
"I know you..."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Jecht squints at him, reaches up to catch the collar that hides the other man so well, pulls him down with a hard jerk and Auron has to struggle to catch himself with his one free arm, hand pressed in the grass beside Jecht's head, face pulled so close that they bump noses.  
  
"Auron."  
  
"Yes."  
  
A sudden puff of warm breath against Auron's face, crimson eyes narrowing to slits as Jecht tightens his grip on the heavy cloth of that collar. He remembers.  
  
"You killed me."  
  
" . . . Yes."  
  
Jecht's mouth is impossibly hot as it crushes against Auron's own, sharp teeth bruising lips as he claims his mouth and the flavor is bitter and sweet at the same time. Auron accepts it, opens to it and that heat spreads as an eager tongue brushes his own. Jecht's hand is free, fingers tangle in silky dark locks at the back of the other's head, works loose the band of leather that ties it back as a thumb rubs at the nape of his neck, keeps him from pulling back.  
  
Breath comes in a ragged pants once they part again, eyes open slowly and Auron sits back, reaching to push his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose with one finger. Jecht pushing himself to his elbows, suddenly grinning like an idiot.  
  
" You're late, ya know?"  
  
Auron is smiling, almost.  
  
"I know."  
  
*** That's it! Though, yeah... I'll probably write more later, if to sooth my own broken muse. 


End file.
